


Fuck the Holidays.

by ExceedinglyRegular (DrakeRamorayIII)



Series: Holiday Special [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Holiday Special, M/M, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, fake engagement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakeRamorayIII/pseuds/ExceedinglyRegular
Summary: In this three-part holiday special, watch as I attempt to write some fluff.Part 1: Andrew works at a clothing store and Steven (who lost a bet and needs to wear a different ugly sweater every single day leading up to christmas) shows up and the rest is for you to read.Part 2: Andrew and Steven have to act like they are an engaged couple at a christmas party because Andrew stupidly told his ex (who’s also at the party) that he is engaged, and is too awkward to correct his mistake.





	1. Part 1 - Ugly Sweaters, Pretty Face

# Part 1 - Ugly Sweaters, Pretty Face

Jingle bells. Retail hell. Andrew hates this place. Oh, what fun it is to work this close to the holidays...

"HEY!" Ryan, the store manager, yells out from some corner of this hellhole. There's the sound of loud running footsteps accompanied by a single lone jingling bell. "Put those decorations back!!"

Oh joy, here they go again. Every year without fail, somebody will try to steal the Christmas decorations. Usually, it's one attempt a day but sometimes there's multiple. It's completely bonkers.

"GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!" Ryan screams at the top of his lungs. Hangers on the racks clatter against each other as a loud scampering scatters across the store, Andrew barely managed to catch the blurry figure bolting out of the door thanks to the mannequins in the way. He leans back against the counter and turns to TJ who was also watching the events from behind the cash register.

"That's the first time I've heard him that mad," Andrew remarks. "Wonder what's gotten to him..." TJ merely makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs halfheartedly in response. He then proceeds to mash random buttons on the register in an effort to look as though he doesn't care but Andrew's not fooled.

It's actually kinda funny that when Andrew first met TJ he thought this guy was terrifying looking and might just eat him for breakfast if he were ever in a bad mood. But as it turns out, Andrew learnt pretty quickly that 'lukewarm' is probably the most appropriate word to describe him. Most people would argue that 'cold' is more accurate but that's not true, TJ's actually really friendly once you get to know him. On the other hand, he doesn't appear to have passion for anything...

...except Ryan.

It's a real shame that those two idiots can't see beyond the end of their own noses because they would be really cute together, at least, that's what Andrew thinks. But what does he know? He's no relationship expert, he's not even gonna lie and say that he knows how to handle being in a relationship. If he did, he probably wouldn't be single right now, he probably wouldn't have lost-

Andrew abruptly ejects his train of thought as he notices, in his peripheral vision, a customer entering the store. His autopilot mode instantly engages and he turns around and walk up to greet whoever just showed up.

"Welcome to BuzzFits. We have every s-" Well, hello. The canned greeting dies in Andrew's throat as he take in the sight before him. The man standing before him might as well be literally glowing, he's radiating this unbelievably happy(?) energy with a wide bubbly smile on his nice soft-looking lips (are they actually as soft as they look?). He's tall but not _nearly_ as tall. His hair is mussed up and messy but, again, not _nearly_ as messy. And his eyes-

Okay, that's enough. Andrew silently chides himself for comparing this stranger with his ex. He has got to stop doing that with every new cute guy he meets. The customer, for what it's worth, doesn't seem to notice Andrew basically drooling over him. 

"Hi, I'm gonna need twenty-five _Christmas_ themed sweaters." Andrew tilts his head to the side and frowns, unsure if he heard the man correctly.

"I'm sorry, _twen-ty-five_?" He over-enunciates the number more out of surprise than for clarity.

"Yes! Twenty-five!" The man continues browsing through the racks in front of him, as if what he's asking for is the most ordinary thing. "I need a different one for each day leading up to Christmas!" One a day?! Wow, Andrew never thought he'd ever meet someone who's _this_ extra. He understands getting into the holiday spirit but this?

This is just unnecessary.

The man rapidly shifts from rack to rack, unsatisfied with the selection thus far, and Andrew find himself simply following for no rhyme or reason. He reasons internally that he's clearly offering assistance but the excuse falls flat seeing that he's been thoroughly useless the entire time, merely watching on silently.

When the man makes a move for the shelves, Andrew follows as well, but this time he sticks closer. He doesn't know why. It's like they're magnetic and he's just being dragged along unwittingly, there's no helping it. Maybe this is meant to be, maybe he's 'the one' that Andrew's been looking for. He hasn't felt such natural attraction towards anyone ever since... you know.

No, no, that's just the loneliness talking. Andrew's been single for almost three years now and his mind is aching for the intimacy it's been deprived of. To the point where it's willing to search for it in anyone at all, even if they aren't of the best character, even if they aren't the best looking. **NOT** that this guy isn't good looking, it's just... Andrew loses his train of thought when the man reaches for the top shelf and his shirt rises up just enough to show off his navel.

Fuck. _Snap out of it!_

"Let me help you with that," Andrew says absentmindedly. The man stops in his tracks, arms still stretched out, and throws a funny look. That's when Andrew realizes the absurdity of what he said. The dude is taller than him, for fucks sake. Great, now he either looks like an asshole or a dumbass, he's not sure which is worse.

When the embarrassment is too much to bear, Andrew's gaze falls from the stranger's face to the ground but on the way down, it stops for a brief moment to admire the stretch of exposed skin and the little happy trail. Andrew's cheeks start burning as his thoughts take a turn for the dirty, urging his eyes to the floor in double-quick time.

Although he has been attracted to many a customer before, this right here is some next level shit. He swallows whatever little saliva is left in his mouth to ease his sandpaper throat while simultaneously sweeping the lewd thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Uh, Andrew...?"

"Huh, yes? Sorry..." Andrew draws his attention back up to the customers face and was momentarily stunned by how beautiful he looked. He was about to start explaining why he spaced out but then thought better of it. There's no nice way of put- "Wait, how did you know my name?"

"Your name tag," The man points out plainly. Andrew automatically looks down at the little piece of plastic pinned to his shirt. After a short moment of awkward silence, he sighs defeatedly.

"I swear I'm not normally this stupid." It's true. He's also not normally this forthcoming to customers, preferring to maintain a professional facade even though this is just another corporate chain selling mass-produced apparel. The man standing before him stares at him with furrowed brows and a frown, mindlessly fiddling with the material of a dark navy sweater that he's holding in his hands. 

"But are you normally this cute?" Oh. Wow. That was smooth as fuck. If Andrew wasn't blushing before (he's pretty certain he was), then he definitely is now. He was never one to compliments well, especially not ones of this variety. Any attempt to swat away the compliment is thwarted by his stuttering brain. Also, if he spoke right now, Andrew's positive that he himself would be stuttering too.

"I'm Steven by the way," the man introduces himself with a million-watt smile and an outstretched hand, which Andrew awkwardly grips and shake. The horrible feeling of his own cold, sweaty palm against Steven's soft, warm hand almost makes him regret the action. When Andrew pulls his hand back, Steven is still smiling as if he did not just partake in the world's worst handshake.

"So... why do you need 25 sweaters anyway?" Andrew switches the focus back to what brought them in this position in the first place. He figures that if he sticks to doing his actual job he might not fuck up nearly as much. Steven laughs at the question and Andrew thinks it may be the most incredible thing he has ever heard.

" **Ugly** sweaters," Steven 'corrects' him cheekily then he looks down shyly at the sweater he's still holding on to, poking his finger between the strands. "I, uh... lost a bet. It was stupid, don't ask me what it was." A bet huh?

"Wasn't gonna, but now I _have_ to know."

"Maybe some other day." Steven puts the sweater back on the shelf and starts looking through the other piles. Just as Andrew thought he missed an opportunity, Steven turns to him with a grin. "Perhaps over coffee?" And then he, get this, he FUCKING **WINKS**! Oh fucking damn, is this guy real? He's _got_ to be a hallucination of sorts, there's no other explanation. Andrew's mind is most definitely playing tricks on him. His mental gears get caught on something as sparks go off in his head, he tries and fails to come up with a response. Fortunately, Steven rescues him from getting ground up by his own fucking thoughts. "But first, you have to find me my twenty-five sweaters."

Oh, it's on. He's getting that fucking date. He will flip the store upside-down to find twenty-five ugly sweaters for Steven if needed, even though Ryan will kill him for that.

"I'll do better than that. I'll find you twenty-five THOUSAND sweaters!" Andrew exclaims enthusiastically and instantly cringes at himself. But it turned out to be a good move as Steven's grinning so wide that his face might just split in half. Andrew's heart does backflips as he commits every detail of this scene to memory, from the overplayed Mariah Carey track blasting from the store's speakers, down to the way Steven's eyes crinkle with joy.

* * *

It was a whirlwind of an hour (or maybe two, or three, Andrew didn't exactly have the attention capacity to keep track of time with Steven around) but he had successfully completed his quest and found Steven his twenty-five _ugly_ sweaters. Right now he's just staring excitedly at the little piece of paper in his hands. He had to go attend to a bunch of other customers that showed up out of nowhere but as Steven was leaving the store after TJ rang him up, he took the opportunity to (not so subtly) slip the paper into the back pocket of Andrew's jeans. There may or may not have been a yelp and some looks of judgements casted upon him by the patrons of the store.

_'i think you know what to do with these digits. if you're free on saturday, i know this cozy little cafe not too far from here -steven'_

"Wow, lucky you, landing a date as cute as him." Andrew jumps at the voice, nearly drop the slip of paper. He spins around to find TJ smirking at him with crossed arms, and looking way too proud of himself. "Congrats, Andy." Despite the mocking look on his face, Andrew knows that TJ is being genuine. 

"You could get a cute date too, if you just fucking grew a pair and asked Ryan out." It's a bit of a low blow, but Andrew can't think of any other way to get back at him. The expression on TJ's face instantaneously morphs into a look of panic.

"I-... w-what?" TJ straightens up and takes a few steps back, his arms tighten the hold on his chest. "I'm-... I am n- **not** interested in Ryan!" His denial comes as no surprise, Andrew had expected nothing less from him.

"Whatever, keep lying to yourself." Andrew shrugs, not really in the mood to drill deeper in, he would much rather be texting Steven. But before he walks off, he throws TJ one last supportive smile. "I mean it though, you should ask him out. He likes you too."

And with that, Andrew heads off to the break room.


	2. Part 2 - This Love Is Ours for the Faking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew and Steven have to act like they are an engaged couple at a christmas party because Andrew stupidly told his ex (who’s also at the party) that he is engaged, and is too awkward to correct his mistake.

# Part 2 - This Love Is Ours for the Faking

"You want me to do what?" Steven's eyebrows are raised so high, they are almost completely hidden behind his silver hair. Andrew can't really tell if Steven is angry but he's definitely shocked for sure.

"I know it's quite a big favor to ask..."

"Quite?! You-" Steven cuts himself off as he looks down at the takeaway cup of hot coffee he's holding. Grimacing, he gently sets it down onto the table between the two of them, and the instant the cup is safely resting on the wooden surface, Steven leaps out of his seat, the action eliciting an involuntary flinch from Andrew. "You're asking me to act as if I'm about to marry you! Let's not even get into how messed up that is. For one, how are we even gonna pull it off? We barely know each other!" Steven begins pacing back and forth, deep in his thoughts. Andrew can feel all the eyes in the area trained on them, he really shouldn't have done this in a public area. "I've seen you, like what, three times?" Steven suddenly stops right in front of Andrew. "We've been on _one_ date. ONE!" He holds up his index finger and waves it around in Andrew's face for dramatic effect.

Andrew sighs dejectedly. And it might very well be their last date too. Well, fuck. Andrew knew this was a bad idea and yet he still went forward with it anyway. What did he think was gonna happen? Honestly, he brings these things upon himself.

"Yeah, I know..." Andrew mumbles just loud enough for Steven to hear, feeling embarrassed and frankly quite upset with himself. "I'll ask someone else..." There's a cold dread creeping up the back of Andrew's neck and he has to swallow the growing lump in his throat before he is able to continue speaking. "...and if you don't want to, you know, talk to me ever again... that's cool too." He can practically hear Steven yelling 'you will not see me ever again', turning on his heels and storming off. But instead all he gets is a very puzzled tiny voice.

"W-what?"

"I totally get it, that was f-... I shouldn't have even asked that," Andrew explains, refusing to look anywhere but the tiled brick floor. Maybe if he doesn't see Steven's face, it wouldn't hurt as much. He fucked up. God damn has he fucked up this time.

"Hey, look..." Steven puts a hand on Andrew's shoulder but Andrew still stubbornly has his eyes glued to the ground, prompting a gentle squeeze in response. "...Andrew!" Finally giving in, Andrew raises his gaze up to meet Steven's and he's surprised to see no disgust or repulsion, only concern. "Just because I'm not gonna pretend to be your fiancé doesn't mean I don't wanna date you anymore."

Those words send Andrew's mind hurtling off into the sunset. He had actually expected Steven to stand him up on their first date, he thought for sure that he was being played. Now he feels even worse for doubting Steven in the first place.

"Are you sure? I mean, if I were you, I'd have dumped me and changed my number and maybe move to a different state. That was really fucking creepy of me, like... I just met you and all that... asking you to pretend to be my fiancé so that my ex doesn't think that he ruined my life when he broke up with me three years ago? ...that's not cool, not cool at all."

"You never know when to stop talking, do you?" Only after Steven points it out does Andrew realizes the stupidity of what he said. He sighs once more, sinking down even deeper than he had ever imagined was possible but apparently, Steven has other ideas. "You know what? I'll do it."

"Do w-what?" Andrew sits straight up, unable to believe his ears. Did he just say he'll-

"Pretend to be your fiancé." Steven shrugs nonchalantly, and instantly alarms start blaring in Andrew's head with flashing red lights and the whole shebang. He doesn't quite understand the reasoning behind his brain's freaking out but it's probably best to heed its instincts. 

"N-no you d-don't h-" Andrew struggles to try and dissuade him but it's clear that Steven has already made up his mind, as he waves it all away without any hint of hesitation.

"I'm doing it, no arguments." Steven sits back down in the chair opposite Andrew, picks his cup of coffee back up, and starts sipping away cheerily like he didn't just agree to participate in the dumbest charade ever.

Looks like they're doing this.

Later in the evening, Andrew waits in his car outside Steven's apartment to pick him up, internally wondering if he may have overdressed for the occasion. It's a pretty casual party but he doesn't want to look sloppy, he wants to look nice for Steven. But what if it's too much? He'll look so stupid if they're mismatched. Plus, nobody is even going to be convinced that they're dating, much less engaged. Oh god, oh god, oh god. This is going to be an absolute shitshow, Andrew grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles gradually fade to white. He's gone so deep wallowing in his self-induced panic that he didn't even notice Steven entering the vehicle until he spoke.

"Oh good, I was worried I dressed a little too fancy," Steven remarks relieved while putting on his seat belt. Andrew turns to take a good look at him and his jaw instantly drops. Steven's wearing dark trousers, a pale blue button-down with a dark red necktie and all wrapped up in a brown sleeveless sweater... he basically looks like a professor's assistant, which Andrew would find hilarious if he isn't still stuck in his heightened sense of freaking-the-fuck-out. Sensing the tension in the air, Steven lightly grips Andrew's shoulder and leans in just ever so slightly, that same look of concern from earlier all over his face.

"You okay there?" Steven's eyes are darting around, looking for any pronounced signs of distressed and maybe he found one, Andrew wouldn't know since his own eyes found their way down to Steven's lips. They are so so close, one little push forward is all it would take but that's... a little too much, so Andrew reels his mind backwards as his world unfocus off Steven's tightly-drawn lips and back onto the unsettlingly still air in the car. Andrew fakes a cough and pulls all of himself back into the confines of his seat, his eyes set on the road dead ahead.

"Yeah, all good," he lies, doing his best to ignore how loud his heart is thumping in his chest. With shaky hands, he releases the parking brake. "Let's go." He slowly reverses the car out of the parking spot, and sets them on the road to disaster. Steven says nothing about how unsteady and bumpy the drive is, and Andrew is thankful for that. But less than half a minute in, the silence already becomes too much for Andrew. Typically, the low hum of the engine is more than enough to calm him down but this isn't a typical moment, so he turns on the radio. And even though Andrew kinda hates the music that is pumping through the speakers, it's still better than trying to hold a conversation which, fortunately, Steven does not attempt to do.

When they finally arrive at Adam's apartment complex, Andrew thanks his lucky stars for that one empty parking spot on the entire stretch of road. Steven exits before the vehicle even comes to a complete stop, no doubt restless from the agonizing time on the road. But before heading up, Andrew takes Adam and Annie's gifts from the trunk, it's two separate gifts but he wrapped them together because he's lazy like that. (Also because he had spent the entirety of the week texting Steven and left the gift wrapping to the last minute.)

"I hope I don't mess up the script," Steven casually mentions while they are waiting for the elevator, with only a mere undercurrent of anxiety lining his voice.

"There aren't that many facts to remember," Andrew points out. He doesn't know if he's trying to convince Steven or himself, or does it even matter?

"That's what I'm worried about, what if we say conflicting stuff?" Steven fiddles with the edge of his pants pockets, running his thumb back and forth over the seam. Well, he does have a good point there if Andrew's being honest, but having run out of useful thoughts, Andrew can only shrug in silence.

Adam greets them at the door, and even though they aren't as close these days, Andrew thought it would be best to give him an advance notice of the fakery. _And_ make him swear not to tell anyone, not even Annie. The less people who know about it, the easier it would be to pull off. Adam told him he's an idiot over the phone, Andrew nodded.

"Welcome," Adam greets them in his usual overly-quiet voice, he eyes the pair like a police officer preparing to strike with an interrogation, fortunately he does nothing of that sort while Andrew awkwardly pushes a gift-wrapped box into his hands. With a tiny nod of his head, he ushers them into his apartment.

"Is he always like that?" Steven whispers harshly into Andrew's ear once Adam is out of range, but the words are lost in Andrew's million-thoughts-a-second mind. His eyes scan the room and they immediately zero in on one particular figure, just like they would have years ago. The figure leans against one of the walls near the corner of the living room, sipping away at a red solo cup instead of mingling. When their eyes finally meet, Andrew finds himself locked in. God, it's like nothing has changed.

Except everything has.

As Andrew takes in a sharp breath, Steven's hand find its way over to his and their fingers intertwine, he squeezes gently to give reassurance. A low heat shoots up his arm and begins to warm the rest of his body that he didn't even know was cold before. Andrew flashes him the tiniest grateful smile before leading him to weave through the crowd. He politely nods at every familiar face he passes. The air in the room feels to be getting thicker with each step. The closer he moves towards the figure, the stronger the tension in Andrew's chest becomes until it is almost suffocating him. Yet another thing that has changed so drastically from years before.

Three. Two. One.

As he stands before his ex, Andrew has to look upwards to even see his face, despite the other man being hunched over. He's _that_ tall, and it almost makes Andrew chuckle just thinking about how ridiculous their height difference must look.

"Shane," Andrew starts but pauses to lick his lips nervously. The man straightens up at the sound of his name and pushes up and off the wall. Even though Andrew has rehearsed the lines endlessly in front of the mirror, the words are still sticky in his throat. "I would l-l-like to introduce you... to my..." _Damn it, Andrew, you can do this._ "...my fiancé, Steven." 

"Steven, t-this is... Shane." Andrew doesn't know what to call him other than by his name. He wanted to say 'good friend' but it didn't feel right when they haven't even been in contact the last few years. His second choice was 'ex-boyfriend' which, unlike the first term, is factually correct... but it doesn't sit well with Andrew either. But for what it's worth, Shane does at least look happy to meet Steven, he extends a hand which Steven reaches out to shake only after a flicker of hesitation.

"It's nice to meet you." Shane smiles and Andrew finds himself stunned by how genuine it looks, and he instantly chides himself mentally. _Of course he would be actually happy, he always did put you above all else._

While he wants to stay and converse (it's the right thing to do after all, he shouldn't be leaving Steven alone with Shane) but every bone in Andrew's body is screaming for him to get the fuck out. So for the first time in the last 24 hours, Andrew listens to his gut feeling and excuses himself to go grab drinks. On his way to the kitchen, Andrew takes in the surroundings. He hasn't been here since a little before Adam's wedding, and quite a lot has changed. Most of the furniture have been moved to more sensible and logical locations, which he surmises is probably the very first thing that Annie did when she officially moved in.

"Nice of you to ditch me so quickly," a voice behind suddenly pipes up, and the shock sends Andrew accidentally slamming into the kitchen doorframe. He yelps in pain as a sharp tingle shoots up his right arm. "Oh my god, are you okay?" Once the initial shock wears off, Andrew manages to identify the voice's owner as Steven, who is already fussing over him, checking for injuries. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't ditching you," Andrew gently pries off Steven's hands, "I'm _actually_ getting drinks." He didn't say that to make Steven feel bad but that's what he managed to achieve anyway as the other man visibly tenses up. 

"Sorry."

The silence that follows hangs uncomfortably over the two men. Steven has clearly ran out of things to say, and Andrew is in no better state. Not that there's anything that he can say that could possibly make things better, so why even bother? Instead, being the human disaster that he is, Andrew decides to fix himself an unhealthy helping of red wine, and a much more human serving for Steven. They exit the kitchen with their respective glasses but stick close to the wall, watching the party unfold instead of participating. After a couple of sips each, Steven leans over slightly into Andrew's space and rests lightly on his shoulder. _It's just the wine,_ Andrew tells himself as numbing heat blossoms on his cheeks.

"Can I... ask, like, about your history...?" Damn it, he knew this would happen, Steven is clearly getting uncomfortable about the whole situation. _Bring your date to meet your ex, they said, it would be fine, they said._ While Andrew contemplates on his word choices, Steven takes the silence as confusion. "With Shane, I mean." They don't really have much time so, he'll have to go with the short version.

"We used to date three years ago, then he got a job offer from this huge film company in London, _which_ he would rather turn down than leave me behind." Andrew's chest tightens as the memories come rushing back to him, it's been so long but it hasn't gotten any easier. "I didn't want to be the reason he missed out on such a good opportunity, I'm sure you know how to connect the dots."

"And you want to convince him it was the right choice, hence this _whole_ thing." Steven concludes accurately, there is _some_ surprise sparking up in Andrew's mind "Then it isn't all that messed up, I kinda admire you actually. It's not eas-"

"You two have to kiss!" Annie suddenly interjects out of no-fucking-where, with a little mischievous glint in her eye. While Andrew isn't in the mood for any of this nonsense and is more than ready to ignore her, Steven at least has the manners that Andrew lacked. But at the same time he clearly lacked Andrew's wit.

"Sorry, what?" Steven asks, confusion written all over his face. It's actually pretty adorable how clueless he is, the way his eyes furrow and how his frown is so pronounced that it's almost a pout. Without missing a beat, Annie points up at the ceiling, where a single sprig of mistletoe is dangling right above him and Steven. Andrew watches as his eyes grow impossibly wide, likely from horror. The guilt that was just beginning to settle in the pit of Andrew's stomach begins its ascent into his chest. He already feels bad enough for roping Steven into his little charade, no way is he going to force a kiss upon him.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Annie begins chanting, and a few nearby partygoers join in. Andrew doesn't like where this is headed, he turns to Steven to tell him to ignore them but his sentence gets short by something pressing up against his mouth. It takes him several seconds too long to realize that the 'something' is Steven's fucking lips and... oh.

These might just be the softest lips he has ever felt.

Andrew's just beginning to get used to the slow tender movement of Steven's lips when they are suddenly removed from contact. He whimpers involuntarily and blushes when he remembers that there are people watching him, Annie's obnoxiously loud laughter is a solid proof of that. The intoxication of the kiss is beginning to wear off and Andrew's sensibilities return to him.

Shit, that wasn't supposed to happen. 

"Excuse us," Andrew murmurs as he pulls Steven by the elbow into the guest bedroom. Loud cheers and suggestive whistles erupt behind them, and only then does he realize what his actions probably look like to them. Ah, fuck it. It's not like he will ever have to see those people again. Except Annie, but he supposes he can find a way to explain to her that they did not have sex in her guest bedroom. He just wants to talk to Steven.

"Hey, that-" and once again, Andrew gets interrupted by Steven kissing him, how rude of him. As Steven's hands begin to roam, the kiss deepens and... He could really use more of this. Whatever words, explanations, and excuses Andrew had thought up of dissolve in the bubbling passion and are forever lost to time. This time, Andrew drops his guard and fully commits to the moment...

When they finally get ejected from the guest bedroom by Annie, Andrew is flustered as all hell, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

"There'll be more where that came from," Steven basically purrs into his ear and Andrew shudders from both the heat of his breath, and the thought of him and Steven partaking in 'further activities'. With a smirk and a wink, Steven skips off to the dining table where everyone is fawning over the cream puff tower that was just brought out, leaving Andrew to simmer in his own dirty thoughts.

This may have been the best mistake he has ever made.


	3. Let Me Miss You Under the Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: I lied. This isn't fluff. But it wouldn't be an ExceedinglyRegular story without angst, so here is Shane being miserable and sad about losing the love of his life.

# Part 3 - Let Me Miss You Under the Mistletoe

Well, this is awkward.

Not that Shane hadn't entertained the idea of possibly running into Andrew during the course of his short visit home. No, that's not the problem. The problem is that he never once thought about what he would even say if it _did_ happen.

Until now.

Shane had been walking round the corner of the street when he nearly collided with another pedestrian. He was planning on simply breezing past them (and he would have) but they froze up on the spot, an action that inadvertently stole all of Shane's attention and curiosity. When he lifted his gaze off the ground, he realized exactly why they did what they did.

Maybe it's because his memory is fuzzy but Andrew looks exactly as Shane remembered him, except for the complete lack of smile. His eyes shine brighter than any of the stars that Shane had counted in London when he couldn't sleep, when he missed Andrew. They are one of his features that Shane loved, no, _loves_ the most.

The silence has dragged on for over five minutes while they both try to figure out how exactly to react to this impromptu reunion. It doesn't surprise Shane in the least when Andrew gets there first, he has always been the one with better social skills.

"Never thought I'd see _you_ again," Andrew mutters and it almost destroys Shane. He sounds more surprised than bitter but Shane knew him well enough to know that he's only putting up a front. But there's really nowhere for Shane to place the blame but on himself. After all, he did this to them. He did this to Andrew.

"Yeah, it's been a while," Shane replies after pondering for a few moments. Andrew snorts at the statement but quickly transforms it into a cough about halfway through, he must think he's so slick. "It's fine, you can call me out on my bullshit."

"Never could get anything past you could I?" Andrew grins and Shane takes in a sharp breath. Damn, he's beautiful. (But Shane already knew that.) He's so beautiful that not even the bright neon-pink sedan zooming past could catch Shane's eye time, not even for a split second.

"I suppose not," Shane chuckles and miraculously, Andrew's smile grew wider. For a moment, Shane could almost pretend that everything was how it should be, that he never left, that he never took that job in London, that he never broke Andrew's heart like one of his empty promises. What a life that would be.

But he did leave, he did take that job. Andrew had said that if their relationship didn't survive the long distance, that he could always find another partner but never another opportunity like this. And for the longest time, Shane believed it, oh what a fool he was.

"So... you going to Adam's Christmas eve party?" While one part of him is hoping that Andrew would say 'no', the better part of him knows that it won't be the case. It may be immature of him but he doesn't feel like he can stand being around Andrew that long, not with their history hanging over them like a thundercloud.

"Never missed a year... and I don't ever plan to." Andrew probably didn't mean that as a jab but still that's what it feels like to Shane. Guess he'll have to pass up on reconnecting with old friends, not that they'll be missed. He had promised Annie that he'll go, but on the other hand, he had also promised Andrew that he'll always be there for him so, hey... what's another broken promise? 

"Heh, which I could say the same..." He doesn't know if the self-deprecation is earning him points with Andrew, but he sure hopes so. "Maybe if I finished all the salad, Annie might forgive me..." His poor attempt at humor manages to elicit a mild chuckle from Andrew and Shane thinks maybe... just maybe, Andrew won't hate him for life. "You... seeing anyone?"

Andrew's eyebrow quirk up and Shane mentally slaps himself for letting that slip. That is possibly the worst thing he could've said. Literally anything else would have been better. Now Andrew's gonna think that he's trying to get back together or something...

...not that it would necessarily be a bad thing (nor would it be inaccurate).

But for all that Shane was thrown off by hearing himself ask that question, it's nothing compared to hearing Andrew give his answer.

"Yeah, actually... I'm engaged."

WHAT?! What the actual fuck? How did he miss this? Well, that's simple really, he and Andrew don't talk anymore, not since...

Shane feels a phantom claw grab ahold of his heart, stifling its rhythm while the sharp nails dig into it. Andrew's engaged, he's moved on... Well, of course he did. Andrew had always been the mature one, Shane doesn't know how he thought could get away with believing that just because he's not over Andrew, that Andrew wasn't over him. This shouldn't come as a surprise nor should it hurt this fucking much... it's been three whole years already. And yet, here he is, trying his best not to collapse and die in this very spot he stands.

"Oh my god, really?" Shane tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice, he isn't sure if he succeeded but judging from Andrew's expression, he at least didn't fail completely. "That's so great! Congratulations!!" It's the right thing to say. It's the _only_ thing to say. If Andrew's happy then Shane's happy _for_ him... right?

* * *

He could've just not shown up really, nobody would've questioned his absence, except maybe Andrew. But no, he just _had_ to do the 'right' thing and attend. Maybe he should just leave now, before Andrew and his fiancé shows up. Instead, he puts that idea on hold for just a little longer as he takes another sip from the red solo cup in his hand. He hasn't the slightest clue what he's drinking, apart from the fact that it contains the alcohol he'll need to make it through this mess.

Everyone around him is dancing, boozing and all around having fun. He wants no part in it, and damn does it make him sound like a sad old man. There's all the usual party people here, there is the overly handsy couple that's making everyone uncomfortable, the polite yet awkward girl-next-door who's trapped between two guys arguing about sports, and of course the fratty dude-bro trying to hit on anything that moves. Shane rolls his eyes as laughter and applause erupts from the crowd who's watching said dude-bro pull off one of them cheesy party tricks.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Shane sports some newcomers to the party. Just for curiosity's sake he peers over and he suddenly finds himself locked into Andrew's gaze. Well, shit. Just as he was planning to leave too. Andrew looks nervous, scared even, but Shane doesn't suppose he has any right to be surprised. The man standing beside Andrew eyes Shane carefully, he doesn't miss how the man takes his fiancé's hand to reassure him. 

Andrew looks over to smile at his fiancé the way he used to smile at Shane. The butterflies in Shane's stomach make their presence known as the burst through and spread to all parts of his being. He blames the alcohol for it. The fluttering picks up on intensity as Andrew starts wading through the crowd with his fiancé.

Although it feels like everything is moving in slow motion, it doesn't take long before Andrew is standing before him. Just like before, Shane has no idea what to say to him and once again, following that trend, Andrew does.

"Shane." Three years, three whole years filled with longing to hear this voice say his name again, but now that it actually happens, it sounds all wrong. Andrew pauses, and they just keep staring absently at each other, as if there's a silent conversation to be had. The man beside Andrew shift his weight around awkwardly, and Shane kinda feels bad for him to get dragged into this. He wonders how much of their past did Andrew tell him. "I would l-l-like to introduce you... to my... my fiancé, Steven. Steven, t-this is... Shane."

The man named Steven flicks his eyes over to Andrew for a split moment, looking slightly panicked and worried before turning his attention back to Shane. And as much as Shane is equally hating having this conversation right now, the least he can do is to be polite, he owes Andrew that much. So he sticks out a hand and flash his best smile.

"It's nice to meet you." Steven reaches out to shake his hand and Shane can almost feels _his_ nerves through that little bit of skin contact, like another butterfly crawling over, another that Shane can add to his collection. He only wonders what horrible things Andrew had said about him. No, he wouldn't... Andrew isn't that petty, but at the same time, he would not be factually off base if he had called Shane a selfish coward or something to that extent. Steven drops his hand and almost immediately, Andrew excuses himself (said something about grabbing drinks, Shane wasn't really paying attention to anything outside of his own brain). There's a pang of disappointment hitting Shane in the chest but one that he willingly takes, he deserves it after all.

Andrew hasn't even taken five steps when Steven takes off too, without even a word. Now that he's mostly alone again, Shane lets out a deep sigh. Whether it's of relief or dismay, he'll never know. With the walls closing in on him and no reason left to stick around, Shane decides to slink off to the empty balcony.

The cityscape is nostalgically familiar, like he lived here in a previous life but no, it's only a few years back. And even though it's not even the same angle, Shane finds himself cast back to the times when he and Andrew would sit on the rooftop of their apartment building, constructing elaborate dreams of their future together. He was so sure that Andrew was _the one_ , they were so perfect together. Maybe the problem was that they were too perfect.

"You look like you don't want to be here," a voice speaks up behind Shane and he nearly drops his cup in surprise, he doesn't look back as he can hear whoever it is taking steps towards him. "You also seem awfully jealous of Andy." Shane merely raises an eyebrow at the stranger calling Andrew 'Andy', before mercilessly shooting back.

" _You_ look like you should stop sticking your nose in other people's business before you get punched in the face." The other person eases into Shane's peripheral vision and leans against the railing. Much to his shock, it's the dude-bro from earlier.

"Sorry," He mumbles mostly under his breath, but for what it's worth he does genuinely look apologetic. Shane takes another swig of his drink only to find it empty. Disappointing, just like him.

"I'm happy for him, I swear." His voice sounds convincing enough but his body betrays him as his hand automatically crushes the plastic cup with enough force to snap someone's neck. Damn it. He doesn't know why he even feels the need to convince this stranger but he knows when to concede to failure, so he changes the topic. "How do you know him?"

"I'm sorta his manager."

"Ah..."

"It's totally casual."

"Oh...kay..."

Dude's awkward as fuck, though Shane supposes he can't fault the guy too hard, there isn't much material to work with here. They fall into silence as the conversation hits a very-much-foreseen dead end. But as he expected, the silence doesn't last very long. Dude-bro didn't seem like the type who's comfortable with lingering quiet. "I take it that you two used to date?"

"That's ancient history. It doesn't mean anything anymore..." Shane tries to keep his emotions in check but really, he just sounds like he's on the verge of tears. Dude-bro has a hand hovering over Shane's shoulder, taking a moment to contemplate if he should. He decides he should and gives a gentle squeeze of assurance.

"Just because it's in the past doesn't mean it never happened. Everything that has ever happened matters... even if sometimes you don't want them to." Once again, dude-bro surprises him. Perhaps he has been a little judgmental and dismissive. Dude-bro retracts his hand and Shane surprises himself when he almost leans over to chase after it.

"Yeah, sure... okay. Fine. Good point, uh... what's your name...?" 

"Ryan." Shane almost snorts out loud at how stereotypically _bro_ his name is but that would be incredibly rude, and considering just how nice Ryan has been... it would be an absolute dick-bag of a move. So he holds it in, stifling it with a fake-cough-turned-real-choke. Ryan looks concerned enough and was probably about to ask if he's okay before Shane so rudely cut him off.

"Well, _Ry-an_ , I said none of it matters because Andrew definitely hates me now," Shane states matter-of-factly, as if it's such an obvious fact that he's offended by how Ryan doesn't get it.

"I don't think so." His tone isn't dismissive but more akin to, dispelling...? Like he's trying to quell all the dark thoughts that Shane has swirling around in his mind. But he's wrong because-

"You don't know him."

"Perhaps I don't, but if he really hated you, he wouldn't have brought his boyfriend along to meet you. Even if it's _just_ to make you jealous. I really doubt he would have bothered to go through all that trouble if he truly hated you." Shane once again raises an eyebrow at Ryan, this time however, at 'boyfriend' but maybe Andrew hasn't announced it to everyone yet, maybe he's just telling Shane first because...

... because reasons.

Oh great, there's a downwards spiral coming, he can feel it in his bones, in his guts, in the tightness of his chest. Now's not a good time, Shane swallows down the bitter taste at the back of his throat and hopes it doesn't return. A sudden cold breeze hits them, Shane shivers. Beside him, Ryan stops twiddling his thumbs for a second as he braces himself against the chill, before resuming promptly. He takes a deep breath.

"I know this is... extremely personal, and I shouldn't even be asking and you absolutely don't have to tell me anything at all but... I'm just wondering... why... why did you two break up?" Ryan turns to look at him but Shane's found a very interesting spot on the rim of the cup for him to pick at.

He probably could (and definitely should) just tell Ryan that it is 'none of his business' and he'll likely not pry any further. But it's been too long since he had anyone who's willing to listen to his problems, that's how low he is in life right now, using a complete stranger as his personal sounding board.

"It's... it's a whole... thingy." Shane shrugs with faux-nonchalance and gestures vaguely at the air in front of him.

"A thingy," Ryan parrots him with a frown. Shane sighs, loosely dragging his fingers through his hair. How does he put simply the most complicated time of his life? Fiddling with the crushed cup that's still in his hand, he ponders over what details he can leave out and what he needs to keep in order for it to make sense.

"I was offered a job in London, a GREAT one, mind you, and I didn't want to take it because it meant that I had to move away from Andrew but then he convinced me that it's a once-in-a-lifetime kind of opportunity and we could do long distance, so I took the fucking job and fucked everything right up."

"Long distance... it's tough, but... I don't think Andrew's the type to hate you just because the arrangement didn't work out." 

There's something sharp lightly tracing the scars on the surface of Shane's heart, the sparks flying off from the friction aren't white hot but biting cold. One by one, his ribs start to curl inwards, leaving barely enough room to breathe, they keep going until they're on the verge of snapping. No, he doesn't have to say it, Ryan would be none the wiser... but he can't. He has done Andrew wrong in so many ways, he can't be twisting the story too just so he doesn't look like the perfect fuckass that he is.

"See, the... the arrangement isn't even the problem, the problem is I... I...." Fuck. He can't do this. No, he can't fucking do this now. His eyes are prickling and he knows, he just knows that if he goes on...

He pulls his gaze away from the building in the distance to look at Ryan, and his face is filled with concern, there's not a trace of impatience. Not a trace of blame, which gives him the drive to push through, to correct it, to make this stranger hate him the way he should.

"I never even gave it a chance." The words fall out of his mouth, hits the ground, and shatters into complete silence. But it isn't one of those still silences where nobody knows what to do. The world is teetering on the edge, it's not moving but that doesn't matter, its trajectory is already set in stone.

Finally, Ryan manages to muster up a weak "...what?"

Maybe it's just the rush from knowing you're about to meet your demise, but Shane's not going to fight the sudden surge of pluck flowing through him. "Distance... it destroys you slowly. I didn't want to go through that again but more importantly, I didn't want to put _him_ through it. It fucking sucks and I... I didn't want to hurt him."

"So you broke up with him?" Wow, he caught it in one. Ryan's got quick wits. Really, Shane should've expected that after their earlier exchanges but he didn't because he's dumb, always has been. Taking the silence as a nonverbal agreement, Ryan shakes his head violently. " _How_ is **that** any better?!"

It isn't. It's not any better, it's so so so much worse. And Shane knows that now and- ...that's a fucking lie, he knew a long time ago. He knew it when he was moving into his dinky little flat in London. He knew it when he boarded the plane.

He knew it when he had told Andrew it was over between them.

"I know, I know... I... I _fucked_ up." And with that, all the pent up emotions break through. The tears he had been too proud to let go finally find their way to the surface, flowing down his cheeks like hot molten lava, leaving his skin flushed in their wake. Without even the slightest hesitation, Ryan pulls Shane into a hug, gently patting him and rubbing soothing circles into his back. Shane buries his face in Ryan's shoulder, the soft fabric of the cotton tee muffles his words but they still sound more than clear enough. "I fucked up... really... really bad." 

Despite the uncontrollable sobbing and dizzying feeling that accompanies his shallow breaths, Shane feels like he can finally breathe. He knows, at the back of his mind, that Andrew is still around, still at the party, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care if Andrew saw him right now, it's selfish, he knows, but he's tired... He's so fucking tired of always having his guard up, always looking out for these emotions that might come around at anytime and ruin him and everything he has worked so hard to build.

But it's okay now, he's not in London, he's not going back to work for another week. He can afford this time to himself, he can be absolutely wrecked and depressed and useless. This is the first time in three years that he has taken anything longer than a single day off. He never understood why before, but now he does. It was to avoid confronting this.

Shane wraps his arms around Ryan and squeezes tight, hoping to steady himself. The other man reciprocates the force applied and unlike what Shane's chest was doing to itself earlier, this feels... right. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout-" Shaking his head, Shane mouths a 'no' before throwing in a 'it's alright' that is barely loud enough to be considered a whisper, but Ryan seem to have caught it, he gingerly swipes his thumb back and forth across the back of Shane's neck.

Slowly but surely, the tension begins to drain from Shane's body, out along with his tears and energy. His grip loosens and he slowly leans back, pulling away from the warm embrace he had just begun to get used to. But something stops him mid-motion, he catches something indecipherable on Ryan's face. There's a little twinkle in his eye and a soft smile on his lips. And suddenly Shane feels a deep, hungering want. He just... wants. Of course, he recognizes it for what it is, stupid, reckless, and possibly destructive but fuck does he wants it. There's a void inside him that's aching to be filled. He can't have what he wants, so he will just have to take what he can get.

It seem he's not alone in this.

As if the smallest gravity well opened up between them, Shane can feel Ryan moving in just ever so slightly, it's neigh imperceptible but yet so momentous. Shane returns in kind, barely leaning in enough to move an atom. Then suddenly everything falls into place, like two magnets nudged just close enough. It's been too long, Shane almost forgot how to kiss but Ryan leads him. Slow, soft, tender and silently hinting towards the potential of something more. And just as quickly and abruptly as it had began, it ends. The warmth abandoning Shane's lips forces him to reopen his eyes to look at Ryan. His expression had completely changed, this time to something that Shane is able to pin a word on.

Regret.

In the usual stupid way that it does, Shane's heart sinks. He knows logically that there's nothing to be upset about, but since when has he ever been logical? Definitely not three years ago when he pushed the love of his life away, definitely not thirty seconds ago when he threw all reason aside. His body jumps ahead of his brain once again, as he opens his mouth to say something but the words have yet to be formed. In the usual stupid way that he does, he gets beaten to the punch as Ryan speaks up first.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have d-... n-not when you just- I'm sorry." He's visibly shaking as he stumbles backwards into the wall, flinching when his back hits the bricks. He squeaks put a tiny 'sorry' just as he pulls back the sliding glass door and slips back indoors.

Looks like he can't have this either,

Shane watches ruefully as Ryan joins the rest of the guests who are now crowding around the dining table, all of them basically drooling over the tower of cream puffs. The innocent wholesomeness of the scene almost manages to make him crack a smile. Instead it just drives home the point that he can never be a part of that, because of his stupid overthinking brain, he will never be satisfied by the little things in life.

Maybe someday he'll learn to.


End file.
